


The King's Hind

by lunamoon303



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:27:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6527515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunamoon303/pseuds/lunamoon303
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abused and broken, a frail  creature arrives in the world of mortals, she recovers and waits for the day when she can't reap her revenge on the one who wronged her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rain and Turmoil

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original work of mine, starring a few of my oc's  
> please keep in mind that this work contains depictions of dogs, eye trauma and allusions to physical and sexual abuse

Fat, frigid droplets cascaded down from the steel gray sky in sheets, soaking the angular mass of the human city to its bones. Streetlamps and car headlights cast pallid yellow puddles of light in the foggy dark of the rainy night, making the thinner shadows scatter. In the depths of a refuse strewn alley a void between realms spun lazily, just out of the range of normal human perception. An eerie, ever present breeze hung about the area, going largely unnoticed in the savage weather. Thunder rumbled in the sky above like the growl of some disturbed beast.  
Bleeding, broken, terrified, a delicate being clawed her way free of the swirling void and trembled in the rain. She was scarcely given a moment to breathe and wipe at the blood that dripped from her nose as howling, distorted by the swirling vortex, reached her inhuman ears. She scrambled to her feet in earnest, trying her best to navigate the garbage choked space as the Hounds appeared; far too large to use standard communal portals like their quarry, they tore their own through the thin veil of reality with brutish claws. With black tongues lolling from maws lined with onyx teeth, ears and paws forever stained red with the blood of their victims, the Hounds of the Wild Hunt bayed and made themselves known to the World of Mortals.  
With noses low to the rain-soaked ground and pupilless eyes, as black as their teeth, scanning the darkness, they searched for fugitive they came for. Praying that the pouring rain had washed out her scent trail, the fugitive did her best to hide; staying far from streetlamps and what unlucky humans were about, she limped along on avian legs, deer-like ears flicking to dislodge the raindrops that clung to them. A lithe, graceful creature more suited for gallivanting about a forest in summer than navigating a rain-slick cityscape, she shivered violently as the rain’s bitter cold began sinking into her brown and white skin. The wind raked her with unseen claws, carrying the low growls of her pursuers with it. Her heart rammed ceaselessly against her ribcage as she brought her painful limp to a speedy, if clumsy stagger, gaze flicking from side to side, looking for a safe place to hide.


	2. Hidingplaces and Bitter Threats

Ruby droplets fell from her nose and one empty eye socket, mixing with the rain and water on her skin, leaving garish streaks. Her other wounds didn’t hurt as much as ache and sting against the numbness the weather had wrought, for that she was grateful. The Hounds still trailed her, their spectral howls haunting her more effectively than any ghost could. Scaling an upturned trashcan, she buried herself within the depths of a half full dumpster, gagging at the powerful reek that made her remaining eye water. She clamped her hand over her mouth and squeezed her eye shut, fighting to keep silent. Outside the storm worsened, blinding lightning forked the sky and thunder roared after like divine applause.  
The Hounds of the Wild Hunt where intelligent beasts, once human turned animal by their own greed and lust for violence. The glory days of the Hunt had long passed since the rise of Mortals and their machines, reduced to fighting over the King’s scraps and raiding Seelie territories; opportunities to relive the old days like this were few and far inbetween. The pack fanned out, looking for any pools or trails of scent they may have missed. A wiggling nose poked curiously in the dumpster where she hid, but swiftly withdrew when it found nothing of note other than foul smelling garbage. The largest beast in the pack bristled and snarled, rendered cold and irritable by the unending rain and the loss of it’s prey. With lips curled over powerful teeth and claws digging into the filthy asphalt, it spoke in a harsh, rumbling voice, the voice of a creature never meant to form understandable language,  
“Hear me Viridi Silva, Seelie refuse, pathetic twig, while our eyes still see and our teeth remain sharp we will hunt you to the ends of this miserable realm, so long as our Master command us!” The Hound’s bitter threat echoed in Viridi’s ears and shook her to her core; Seelie refuse, fugitive, scraps for the Hunt that’s all she was now. The Hound that’d spoken threw it’s head back and howled with its packmates, sealing their promise and with that the Hunt was gone, vanishing the same way they’d came before the echos of it’s call faded from the World of Mortals. Viridi didn’t dare move until the echos had stopped, she climbed from her grimy hideout with her breathing shallow; the world spun lazily around her, over and over, faster and faster until it lurched to one side as she fell to the soggy ground and everything went black.


	3. Memories and Mutilation

_Tall, green grass and tiny silver flowers blew gently in the warm spring breeze, cotton clouds scudded purposefully towards the horizon in the blue sky in the Faery Woods. Viridi Silva perched delicately in the branches of her tree home, long white tufted tail swishing back and forth excitedly, ears pricked, waiting for her sisters; they never came. A harsh scream shattered the peaceful day, driving the smaller woodland creatures into their burrows and starling flocks of birds into the air, Viridi kept watch for her siblings. Her emerald eyes scanned the distance for their forms, a flicker of movement caught her attention, something large and white bounded through the woods towards her. A massive Hound was soon baying and snarling at the base of her tree home, hunting horns blared in the distance and brought with them more Hounds. The Wild Hunt had come, and by the orders of the Unseelie king, they took anyone able to work, entertain or serve, laying waste to all else in their path._   
_Viridi was not spared, bound in chains they led her from her home and made her a slave in the Unseelie king’s court. She served as a maid, washing dishes, doing laundry and the like for days until her claws broke and her hands grew scaly from the hot water. She toiled day in and day out, getting little sleep and less to eat. It was during the depths of winter one year when she met the king face to face, he’d hosted a ball and she’d obediently stood by his throne refilling his cup whenever he asked. Her eyes never left his cup or her pitcher, Viridi remained oblivious to the hungry looks King Kral gave her throughout the night until the next morning when he called her to his chambers. Kral claimed her as his favorite and commanded she never stray from his side again, in his mind he belonged to her body and soul. He treated her like a treasured pet and removed all that made her wild and unique, her claws were manicured and blunted so she could not cut him, her antlers filed so she could not gore him. A heavy collar was fitted around her neck so that she may be tethered to his throne, or his bed whenever it suited him._   
_Slowly, the light left the glittering green expanses of Viridi’s eyes, reduced to little more than a pretty doll in the King’s lap she grew quiet and timid,_   
_“Why so quiet, my Sapling?” He would coo as he brushed her bone white hair being her jewel heavy ear, his touch felt like the harshest winter winds yet she dare not shy away. She never answered that question, choosing to keep her eyes on her hands and hold her tongue, ‘like a good girl’.This became her normal for longer than she would care to think about, she did as she was told and narrowly avoided her King’s wrath, until the night that all changed; Kral, engulfed in ennui, summoned a bard to entertain him. The bard was a scrawny creature, with a voice like crashing waves, he sang a lilting song about the glory days of the Fae and when mortals were simple creatures used for food and labor. His song seemed to alleviate Karl’s boredom and sooth the Hounds that lays beside their master, Jagthund Dominus, Kral’s right hand and Master of the Wild Hunt. Viridi watched silently, ears pricked and listening as the bard turned his attention to her, singing about endless wild woods, dappled in golden sun and the beautiful, feral creatures that ran free within them._   
_She smiled, eyes lighting up as she remembered her lost home, she felt at ease for the first time in what felt like eons and smiled gratefully at the young entertainer. Kral was not amused, bitterness and envy clawed at his heart, he set the Hounds on the bard and tugged Viridi away to his chambers, she dared smile at another man and would pay the price. He beat her and demeaned her, wrapping his thick fingers around her swanlike neck before slamming her against the wall,_   
_“I treat you like a goddess and this is how you repay me? You. Are. Mine!” Kral roared inches away from Viridi’s face, his fetid breath choking her more effectively than his meaty fists ever could. With his free hand hovering a hair’s breadth from her face he snarled,”No other man, fae, god or mortal shall meet your gaze,” He stroked her cheek tenderly with a claw,”Only I am allowed to…” He plucked out her eye and she screamed, a harsh, broken sound crawled its way from her throat as she flailed in the king’s grasp,”It’s obvious that you cannot be trusted with precious jewels such as these, I’ll have to keep them for you,” He reached for her remaining eye, intent on making her pay dearly for such a small infraction turned cardinal sin in his selfish, possessive mind._   
_“I am not your **toy**!” Viridi hissed through clenched fangs, her voice thick with pain and choked by the King’s frigid hand. She kicked out with her long bird legs, blunted claws scything and slicing at Kral’s belly and chest, breaking skin. The King snarled, dropping Viridi and clutching his wounds. Seeing her chance Viridi fled, with the Hunt at her heels and Kral’s wrath hanging over her head like a storm cloud. _


	4. Saviors and Restorations

Hot bolts of pain radiated throughout Viridi’s ruined face and pulsed lazily from her other wounds, tearing her from fitful dreams of the past. She opened her remain eye, blearily looking about her environment and touching the gauzy material that swathed the damaged side of her face. She lay in a plainly decorated room, wrapped tightly in thick quilts and clean bandages, body still silently throbbing from her recent escape. The gentle clicking of knitting needle on knitting needle sounded from nearby in the dimly lit room, making Viridi’s ears twitch and flick with distaste; a thin figure with too many limbs and paper white skin sat in a comfortable looking chair, knitting with her top most pair of arms while her bottom most pair twisted rough looking silk into smooth yarn to be knitted into the scarf with figure diligently worked on. Eight pairs of dark eyes glanced up from under a waterfall of darker hair, studying Viridi with mild amusement as the spider-like figure stood from her seat and set her knitting down on a nearby table,  
“Ah, you’re awake finally,” Her voice sounded as smooth and sinister as the silver strands of an arachnid’s web,”We were beginning to worry,” She approached her guest on gangly legs, six spindly arms fidgeted in some fashion,”My name is Micha,” The spider woman said in her smooth voice, a pair of delicate fangs poked between her thin, gray lips. Micha explained to a trembling Viridi how she found her lying in a puddle in a filthy alleyway, unconscious and bleeding, took her home and had her wounds cleaned and bandaged, along with the rest of her,”You’ve been out for several days,” She cooed softly hesitantly changing the bandages that covered Viridi’s empty socket, a look of pure sympathy washing across her beautiful, if heavily unsettling, features. The pair asked each other wave after wave of seemingly unending questions, many were very similar. Who, what, when, why, how? Over and over until they were sated in their thirst for knowledge.  
Viridi stayed with Micha for a long time, healing both physically and mentally from all the faery King had wrought. She grew used to her missing eye and newfound freedom slowly, plagued with nightmares of her imprisonment and a somewhat perverse sense of obsession with her abuser. After years in the King’s care, witnessing his mistreatment of her ilk she’d come to loath him more than she’d loathed any other being in this world or the next. In her time with Micha, she made a promise to herself and those still languishing beneath Kral’s rule, the king will pay for all he has done.   
She practiced as she healed, calling the magic she thought she’d lost so long ago. She learned spell after spell, ward after ward. She studied the darkest of grimoires, not caring about the resulting ramifications that came with such black magic. Cruel and black things that lurked in the pages of those foul books promised her terrible things, she paid them no mind, too caught up in her own plans of vengeance to be bothered with their offers. Micha stayed well out of Viridi’s way as her magic grew stronger, one could see the worry and pain glistening deeply in her bottomless black eyes. She’d grown fond of the other, but understood and was resigned to sit and worry in her chair, knitting clothing for the both of them with her own silk. The spider woman dreaded the day her guest would vanish to wreak revenge on the fool that wronged her, the Faery King was a terrible creature with powers and other fae under his control that crushed all who dare oppose him. Micha lagged behind Viridi loyal when the day came, the spider’s eyes never left the Seelie faery before her. They made their way to the portal Virdi had escaped through the night they met, one could see the tension in Viridi’s slim body as they drew nearer, nt fully dissipating as she took a deep breath and dived in.


	5. Vengeance and Endings

The King did not expect the sudden reappearance of his former favorite pet, nor did he expect her to summon several dozen thick, thorny vines, the size of pythons from the throne room floor. Viridi, with emerald eye ablaze with rage and short fur bristling pointed one clawed finger at Kral, who only gave her an amused half smile in return,

"My my, has my Sapling returned finally?" His voice crackled like ice in water, with yellowed needle teeth visible between his smiling lips. Lips that had uttered terrible, terrible things and brushed Viridi's skin in ways that made her stomach twist. She growled low in her throat at the memory, raising her delicate hands above her antlered head, ears flattened against her skull,

"SILENCE!" The normally quiet spoken creature roared, making the vines under her control flinch like sentient beings. Moving her fingers like a puppet master moves strings the former slave made her power known,"I am not, nor will I ever be your Sapling," The long, thorny vines twitched and slithered towards the throne and the arrogant creature that rested upon it, anyone foolish enough to try and bar their path were soon swallowed up in their prickly embrace,"My name is Viridi Silva, the last of my clan, and I have come for my kin." Kral could not call for help, as the vine were soon upon him, twining about his neck and pulling him towards the being that commanded them. The vengeful, green eyed creature cast a wicked spell as the King was brought towards her. Kral's skin turned gray, brown and rough, his limbs grew and stretched grotesquely. Fingers and toes spreading, Kral opened his mouth to shout for assistance, but only green leaves fell from his putrid lips. Viridi cupped her former master's face while it was still recognizable as a face,

"Why so quiet, my Sapling?" She sneered, watching her magic further change the man that stole decades from her nearly 93 years of life. Soon her spell ended, and King Kral of the Unseelie was no more, a tall oak tree stood in his place, rooted in the floor of the throne room. His crown sat at his roots, his cloak hung in shreds from his branches, as did a glittering green eye on a golden chain. With her lost eye finally in her possession and her kin freed from bondage, Viridi Silva, the last of her kin vanished from Unseelie lands and was never heard from again. But, you ask, what happened to Kral's throne, surely it was not left empty? That my dears is a tale for another time.


End file.
